


It's a phase

by Builder



Category: Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Exhaustion, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other, Sickfic, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-21
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2019-08-05 13:02:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 2,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16368137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Builder/pseuds/Builder
Summary: Eddie learns the ropes of living with Venom.____A repository for my Venom drabbles.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr @builder051. I frequently play a game where I ask for prompts and spin out as many as I can as quickly as I can, and these stories are all born of that.

“Whoa, whoa, stop,”  Eddie gasps, slinging one arm around a light pole to halt the momentum carrying him forward.  “We’re done.”

_**“Why?”** _

“Just…give me a minute.”  

Venom wants to snap the light pole and keep running.  Eddie watches his arm shimmer, threatening to shift again into a mass of writhing black.  “No, don’t.” Exhaustion turning his voice to a whine.  “It’s too much.  Too many times already.”  

Eddie glances over his shoulder at the mess of bodies in the street.  They’re hardened criminals, that much was clear from the way they slammed their latest victim against a dumpster and held a knife to his throat.  They were too well-oiled for this to be their first rodeo.  

Eddie’s glad the nervous college kid is gone, though his wallet is open on the ground beside one of the headless corpses.  He knows he –we– did the right thing.  But it’s still too much.  Eddie’s shaken up.  Literally.  His heart throbs behind his forehead, and his stomach clenches in his throat.  

**_“You’re weak.”_ **

Maybe it’s a dig, maybe just an observation.  Eddie clings to the pole for dear life as his chest caves and he vomits all over the sidewalk.  It’s not the response he would’ve chosen, but he’s not exactly in control.

_**“Why are you doing that?  Stop it.  I will get us home.”** _

“Shut up,” Eddie chokes before he retches again.  “That’s the problem.  Too many.  Too fast.  ‘S like being on a fucking roller coaster.”

**_“Can I heal us?”_ **

Eddie spits and drags his sleeve over his mouth.  He’s trembling, but he’s not hurt.  There’s nothing to heal.  An hour of attempted meditation and a milkshake will do him more good.  “Fuck.  No,” he rasps.  “Just…leave me alone.”

**_“Eddie…”_ **

“God, I know.  Stupid.  Don’t say it.”  Eddie stumbles away from the pole, hoping he’ll steady up once he gets some momentum.  He’d better.  If he wants to make it to his building without walking back through his crime scene, he’ll have to take the long way.  He warns Venom off before he tries to help again.  “And stay put, ok?  I’ll get us home.”

 

 


	2. Venom learns the definition of sick

**_“Can we eat?”_ **

Eddie stops typing.  He spins his desk chair around, though there’s no point.  He needn’t even look away from the screen to address Venom.  “No,” he says.  “We…took down…another one of those Chinese mobsters yesterday.  Remember?”  He goes back to his article.

**_“Can you eat?”_ **

“No,” Eddie repeats.

**_“Why?”_ **

“I’m not hungry.”

Venom makes a dissatisfied sound.

“What’s up with you?”  Eddie skims through what he’s written without taking it in.  “You don’t normally bother me when I’m working.”

**_“Bothering you?”_**   Venom sounds affronted.   ** _“I’m not bothering you.  You’re bothering me.”_**

“What are you talking about?”  Eddie saves his work and closes the document.  His concentration is gone.  He’ll finish later.

Venom groans again.   ** _“Something’s…not right.”_**

Eddie sighs.  The voice in his head is having a psychotic break.  Fantastic.  It’s enough to set of a throb in his temples.  Or maybe it was already there, and Venom’s just drawn his attention to it.  Either way, Eddie could do without.  

Eddie peers into the mug beside his mousepad, dissatisfied with the tablespoon of cold grounds swimming at the bottom.  “I’ll have another cup of coffee, how’s that?”  

**_“Fine.”_ **

An hour later, everything goes to shit.  The headache creeps down Eddie’s neck and sends goosebumps prickling up his spine.  He relocates to the couch, but he’s not any more comfortable.  The coffee bubbles in his stomach, and clammy sweat breaks out on his palms.

**_“See?  Something’s wrong.”_ **

Something is wrong.  Eddie would make an attempt to explain, but it’ll have to wait.  Nausea swells, and it’s all he can do to round the arm of the sofa and trip headlong into the bathroom.  

  
Fever amplifies the impact of his knees against the tile.  Eddie grunts in pain, swallowing frantically as he fumbles the lid of the toilet.  Of all the days to put it down…

**_“What’s happening?  Why do we feel this way?”_ **

Acid and bitterness explode over Eddie’s tongue as he hangs his head over the bowl.  The sound of the heave bounces off the water and makes his ears ring.  The tiny structures in his ear canals seem to be malfunctioning both in hearing and balance.  The hiss of the pipes is deafening.  He’s falling even though he’s still.  

Eddie doesn’t even feel himself gag again, he’s only aware of the itch of sick dripping down his chin.  He pushes away from the toilet long enough to bat at the roll of tissue, but he’s dry heaving before he can tear it off.  When he’s finished, he’s too exhausted to move, so he settles for wiping it on his shoulder.

**_“Your body is accustomed to the parasite.  You ate nothing rancid.  What is happening?”_ **

Eddie sputters and rests his cheek on the toilet seat.  “Fuck.”  He breathes shakily for a moment, then summons the wherewithal to flush away the mess.  He sits back on his heels.  “Did you…call yourself a parasite?”

**_“We’re unwell.  We’re suffering.”_ **

“If I didn’t agree, I’d say those are just excuses.”  Eddie heaves himself of the floor and moves gingerly to the sink.  

**_“I don’t understand!  I am uncomfortable!”_ **

“Me too.”  Eddie picks up his toothbrush.  “It doesn’t happen a lot, but if you’re gonna stick around, you better get used to it.  Being sick’s just part of life.”

**_“Sick?”_ **

“Yeah.”  Eddie leaves the toothbrush in his mouth as he opens the medicine cabinet and roots around for Dayquil.  “Fevers.  Puking.”  He shrugs.

**_“But you need to maintain energy to fight infections.  Why does your body expel it?”_ **

“I don’t know,” Eddie mumbles, not keen to think about it.  “Maybe read a Wikipedia article or something…”  He rinses his mouth and swallows the pills.  “But I’m gonna lie down.  You wanna maybe try the being quiet thing again?  My head hurts.”

**_“Yes.  Our head hurts.”_ **

 

 


	3. Messes happen

> _**What is wrong with us?  Why have we regurgitated food on ourselves?** _
> 
> “Will you shut up a minute?” Eddie mutters, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.  He isn’t sure if it’s the gore from his most recent crime scene that’s making him sick, or if it’s the effect of changing forms ten times in ten seconds, or if Monday’s migraine is making a surprise return.  And frankly, he doesn’t care. All Eddie knows is that he isn’t finished. Another heave bursts from his chest, and he doesn’t drop his hand quickly enough.
> 
> “Fuck.”  He shakes his fingers, then wipes them on his jeans.  He couldn’t have made a bigger mess if he tried. There’s sick all down the front of his sweatshirt, splashed on his thigh, and in a puddle around his shoes.  Even his socks are wet with it. It’s almost humorous at this point. Almost.
> 
> _**Eddie.** _
> 
> “Shut up!”  Eddie spits.  Then he looks around.  The neighborhood is unfamiliar.  He’ll need google maps to get him to the nearest train station, let alone back to the apartment.  His stomach clenches at the thought of riding the subway, packed with people on their way home after a night out.  He probably looks like he’s had too much fun, and not the good kind. “God, I’m fucked.”
> 
> _**I will get us home.  I will protect us.** _
> 
> “Yeah, right.”  The thought of phasing again is almost as bad.  But at least it’ll save him the stares.
> 
> _**I will.** _
> 
> “Ok,” Eddie sighs, making one more attempt at wiping the stickiness from his hand.  “But, go slow. I don’t feel good.”
> 
> _**Always.** _
> 
> Eddie’s sure he can hear the grin.


	4. Eddie and Venom fight a concussion

**_Eddie._ **

“Huh?”  For some reason, he feels like he has to stop walking in order to talk.  Or at least his brain does.  His feet want to keep moving, so he reaches out and hooks a street lamp with his elbow, sending a jolt up to his shoulder and aftershocks quaking in his stomach.

**_We are injured._ **

“Nah, I’m fine,” Eddie says automatically.  “You’re fine.  We’re all fine.”  His voice sounds strange.  Slurred.  Almost gurgling.  His mouth feels wet and crowded, like his tongue and teeth are two sizes too big.  Eddie moves his jaw around, trying to get the hang of the new arrangement.  A rivulet of drool escapes his lower lip and drips in a rope toward the pavement.  “I’m fine,” he mutters again.  Though people who are fine don’t typically do that.

**_Something’s wrong with our head._ **

“With our head?!” It comes out way too loud.  More spit sprays from Eddie’s mouth.  He uses his sleeve to mop his face, but as soon as he does, clamminess breaks out across his forehead.  “Shit.”

**_Sit down.  We are going to fall._ **

“No, no, no,” Eddie whines, half defiance and half mantra.  His stomach heaves before nausea catches up, and he wraps both arms around the light pole as sick explodes from his throat.  He curses under his breath again, feeling the warm wetness soak through the fabric of his shirt.  “Fan-fucking-tastic.”

As soon as he can breathe again, Eddie starts walking again, painfully aware of the fact that he’s weaving.  He sees snatches of shiny blackness whipping in and out of sight around his shoulders.  It takes an inordinate amount of time and thought to realize it’s Venom giving him subtle pushes.

“Are you trying to make me fall?”  Eddie stops again, swaying on his feet.

**_You are trying to fall.  I am trying to correct it._ **

“I don’t…think I like you very much,” Eddie says through a renewed urge to vomit.

**_I don’t like our head injury very much._ **

“Psh.”  Eddie flaps his hand, then stumbles.  Venom appears in a rope around around his chest, yanking him back to an upright position.  “I’ll go home… sleep it off…”

**_Your plan would kill us._ **

“Well, but…” Eddie slurs.  “You’re fixing it.  Right?  You said that?”

**_Before you said you didn’t like me._ **

“I take it back.”  Eddie hazards speaking and stepping at the same time.  “Ok?  Happy?”

**_Not particularly._ **

“Well, good.  Me either,” Eddie huffs.  After a few steps, he nearly trips again.  But this time it makes him laugh.


	5. Eddie has a migraine

“Shut up,” Eddie mutters, reaching for the wall with his hand, then his shoulder.  It’s not normally this far away.  Nor this tippy.

**_We are not poisoned.  Have we been beaten?  Do we have a… a…?_ **

“Concussion?”  Eddie laughs, but regrets it when he has to clap his hand over his mouth.  He’s two feet from the bathroom, but unfortunately his body has decided to stall out in the hallway.  “Nah.  Migraine.”

**_Grain?  Like bread?_ **

“No.”  Eddie cuts the word short in a cough that tastes like long-digested cornflakes.  He doesn’t want to think about anything remotely related to the food pyramid.  “I said… Shut up…”  He swallows forcefully and propels himself through the door.  

Seeing the toilet does nothing to help his current state.  Eddie drops to his knees, never mind the fact that his feet still hang awkwardly in the threshold.  He gags hard and brings up almost nothing.  “Fantastic,” he groans.

**_I see nothing fantastic._ **

“Figure of speech.”

**_Actually… I see a light.  Do you see a light?  Are we hallucinating?_ **

“It’s aura.”  Eddie spits, but more hot, sour saliva collects around his lips.  He feels Venom’s next question, though he has yet to hear the words.  “And I’ll tell you all about it  _later_ …”

**_I will consume whoever did this._ **

“Yeah.”  Eddie folds his arms over the toilet seat.  “Sure you will.”


	6. Eddie and Venom fight a hangover

**Eddie.  What have you done to us?**

“What?”  Eddie rolls over in bed and pulls his pillow over his head.  “Nothing.”

**Our brain is going to explode in our skull.  It will be messy.**

“No it won’t,” Eddie mumbles in reply.  “And don’t talk to me about messy.”

**Why not?**

“You don’t wanna know…”  Eddie gulps, tasting last night’s tequila at the back of his throat.

**Are we poisoned?**

“In a manner of speaking…”

**I can induce vomiting so the virulent substance does not destroy our cells–**

Eddie gags, clapping his hand over his mouth and tossing the pillow halfway across the room. “Shut up.  Please.”

**But getting it out of our system–**

“Seriously,” Eddie says weakly.  “Just stop.  Please.”


	7. Venom is unhelpful; Eddie spills the chocolate

“Can you help me out here?”  Eddie has the top of the M&Ms bag gripped in both hands.  He pulls as hard as he can without yanking, willing the plastic to give up the ghost and open already.

 **Eddie.**  It’s not remotely helpful.  It’s mocking.  Also pitying.

“Seriously,” Eddie’s voice hitches with the effort.  “Like, gimme a claw or something.”

**Not a chance.  I’m having fun watching you.**

“Of course you are.”  He shakes his head.  “You like chocolate, remember?  Help me open the bag.  Then you get the chocolate.”

 **Hmmm.**   Venom materializes in a dripping black specter over Eddie’s shoulder.   **No.**

“Well, then.”  Eddie gives in and tugs the bag hard.  Candy sprays in all directions, bouncing off the walls and kitchen cabinets.  “See?”

Venom cackles with mirth.  

“You’re no fun.  You know who’s gonna have to pick ‘em all up, right?”

 **Yes.  You are.**   The specter grins toothily.

“And you think that’s funny?”

**…yes.  Hilarious.**


End file.
